


Long Time No See

by h_itoshi



Category: Kis-My-Ft2 (Band)
Genre: Bickering, Fujigaya's life is hard, M/M, Not Established, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:41:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28097826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/h_itoshi/pseuds/h_itoshi
Summary: Fujigaya frowns at his phone screen and the notification telling him Kitayama sent him a picture. Kitayama rarely texts him at all, he's more of a caller, and he simply assumes it's a picture of something that he's going to find disgusting.
Relationships: Fujigaya Taisuke/Kitayama Hiromitsu
Kudos: 11
Collections: JE Secret Santa





	Long Time No See

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [Je_SecretSanta](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Je_SecretSanta) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> Person B and A sending photos of themselves to eachother while they're long distance.

Fujigaya frowns at his phone screen and the notification telling him Kitayama sent him a picture. Kitayama rarely texts him at all, he's more of a caller, and so he simply assumes it's a picture of something that he's going to find disgusting.

So he slips his phone back into his pocket and redirects his attention to his manager again, thankfully realizing she's still on about the same thing she was when he stopped listening.

He forgets about the message until he's back home and fresh out of the shower. He grabs his phone while still rubbing his hair dry with a towel because he's that addicted to it, and swipes through his apps to catch up on notifications, finding the preview of Kitayama's messages below a couple others on Line. And since he's all alone now, he simply presses open, expecting something crude.

Which is why he pauses with the towel halfway across his face, staring at the screen for a few moments in pure surprise. It's a selfie in a mirror, plain and simple, Kitayama wearing black sweats and a black T-shirt, mask tugged down to his chin and a tasteless cap on his unstyled hair. He's smiling and making a peace sign, and it's honestly a good picture of him.

_You sent this wrong_

Fujigaya simply writes, rolling his eyes and tossing his phone aside to get his hair properly dried.

He puts on sweats and an old T-shirt lying on the bathroom floor since yesterday, and he's just picked up the blow dryer after dutifully completing his skincare routine as his phone vibrates with a response.

_Lol no I didn't_

_Don't be such a bitch_

Fujigaya frowns at the screen, and his brain is already hurting because he's so not into Kitayama fucking with him right now. He had a long day and he's tired, he's not in the mood to try and outsmart Kitayama without even knowing what the game is.

_You're a bitch_

He types back, very maturely, then shakes his hair out a little before starting the blow dryer.

He sees his phone light up peripherally, but his hair is more important than any argument with Kitayama has ever been, so he pointedly keeps his eyes locked on his reflection.

When his hair is dry and his cheeks a little pink from the heat, he pulls the dryer from the outlet and taps his phone screen.

_Asshat_

_Send me one of you_

Fujigaya's eyebrows rise up under his freshly fluffed bangs, then glances at himself in the mirror. He might be clean with fluffy hair, but he looks shiny and red and he's not sending Kitayama anything.

_No iew why_

He replies, catching his own facial expression as he writes and it's not very cute. Kitayama brings out that side of him, unfortunately.

He decidedly leaves the mirror, heading for the kitchen with his phone in hand to heat up something to eat. He's not as strict with his diet right now since he can barely see anyone considering the pandemic going on, and he's looking forward to a side of mayonnaise so bad.

_Just be cool okay?_

_I know you take ootd photos all the time like some botoxed influencer, just send me one of those_

Fujigaya purses his lips and maybe slams the microwave door closed a little too hard because he most certainly does NOT. He doesn't take photos every day.

_Will you stop nagging if I do?_

He asks, but he's already opened his camera roll to see if there's anything he's willing to send. He feels very called out looking at the six photos he took of himself this morning, but Kitayama doesn't have to know that.

_Duh_

Shows up at the top of his screen, and so he just decidedly picks picture number three (totally a better angle on his hat in that one) and sends it, watching the message get read immediately.

_See, that wasn't too hard, was it?_

Kitayama writes, and Fujigaya rolls his eyes and puts his phone down. He has nothing to reply to that.

But a while later, as he's busy eating in the couch while catching up with senpai drama, he keeps seeing Kitayama's little smile and peace sign in his head. In the end, he opens the chat again and looks at the picture Kitayama sent him. He's still pretty pissed that Kitayama's skin looks so good despite the fact that he's getting old. Way older than Fujigaya anyway. And his shoulders look nice in that T-shirt. It's not fair that he gets that kind of muscular body so easily while Fujigaya's always been a twig.

He saves the picture. Kitayama will never be the wiser.

The next day goes as usual and Fujigaya spends his day working with things that has nothing to do with Kitayama, and so doesn't think about him at all. Pros and cons about a pandemic is that they work as much apart as they possibly can.

But then there's a notification on his phone just as he's heading out for dinner with Yokoo and his manager, whom he obviously can't stay away from, and he frowns as he sees there's just another picture from Kitayama.

“Uhm, I'm just gonna go to the bathroom, I'll be right there,” he says, and Yokoo and his manager roll their eyes and exchange a look, because this happens a lot. Go to the bathroom is Fujigaya code for style his hair and they all know it, but he just happens to care about his looks. It's not a crime.

Only this time, it's an excuse to endure Kitayama's weirdness without Yokoo's hawk eyes picking up on something that isn't there.

It's another selfie, and he's wearing what looks like a dark jeans jacket, a white T-shirt and shaded sunglasses that gives Fujigaya a very uncomfortable flashback to their Real Me performance. He's making a stupid flirty face that fans love but Fujigaya keeps telling him looks stupid, and he wets his lips. It doesn't really look that stupid when he's wearing that. He knows Kitayama's filming that dumb drama with Nikaido so he just assumes this outfit belongs there. Kitayama wouldn't put this on on his own.

He looks at the picture for a whole moment longer than he'd like, then wets his lips again and determinedly exits the chat and puts his phone in his pocket. He'll just have a look at his hair and then go.

Dinner is nice, as it always is, and manager-san leaves after about an hour while Yokoo and Fujigaya linger, talking about everything as they usually do. Fujigaya often wonders what the hell he would do without Yokoo in their group, because he's the only one that actually has common sense. But still, he doesn't tell Yokoo about Kitayama's recent fancy of sending him selfies. He tends not to talk much about his personal interactions with Kitayama at all because that somehow always goes wrong.

_Hey_

_Where's my picture?_

Shows up on his screen just as he's about to go to bed, right before midnight.

He blinks at it because he didn't think a reply was mandatory. But he opens the chat again and looks at the picture Kitayama sent him, finding himself with that uncomfortable twist in his stomach again as he sees the glasses. He saves that picture too, which he's unfortunately reminded of as he goes into his camera roll again to look for something to send.

He chooses a picture from a couple days ago when he went to a shooting, all dressed in black because he knows Kitayama likes him in black.

He pauses right there with the little green tick on the picture, dropping the phone and taking a deep breath to fucking focus. He doesn't care what Kitayama likes him in. He picks the photo because he wants to look hotter than Kitayama. Nothing else.

_So greedy_

He adds after the picture is sent, and he half-heartedly waits for a reply, but there is none, so he simply goes to sleep.

The next day, he kind of hates himself for anticipating it, but it does make him smile when he sees he got a picture. It's an outdoor picture this time, Kitayama smiling widely with a lunch box in his lap and chopsticks in hand, and Fujigaya just assumes Nikaido took this picture. So he coaxes Yokoo into a selfie and sends that, after a good hour or so. Can't seem too eager.

The following day, he opens the picture unashamedly at lunch, and then almost chokes, quickly locking his screen and dropping his phone on the table as he tries to cough as discreetly as possible.

“Are you okay?” Senga asks in concern from across the table, and Fujigaya just waves him off and grabs for his water bottle.

He's got tears in his eyes as the cough finally subsides and he quickly excuses himself to the bathroom. Senga's eyeing him suspiciously as he leaves, but that's okay. If Fujigaya makes an angry face Senga will drop anything.

When he's properly behind a locked door, he opens his phone once again, the picture staring back at him and Fujigaya carefully clicks it to see the full thing. Kitayama's standing before the mirror again, with casual jeans and a white shirt on. Only the shirt is open, showing off his tanned chest and the edge of Calvin Klein underwear, his hand in his hair and his expression sultry, teasing.

It's mostly the expression that makes this picture look so dirty, and Fujigaya's pissed. At least he hopes that's what he is, but he's not too interested in sorting that out since he can't seem to minimize the picture again.

His cheeks feel hot and he breathes a short, irritated sigh through his nose before determinedly going back to the chat. He's not saving that kind of picture.

… _You're kidding_

He types, because this, he has to question.

He lays the phone on the sink and washes his hands like that will help him get rid of his emotions, and he groans as he sees his own flustered face in the mirror.

_Liked it that much huh?_

_Send me one_

Fujigaya glares at the screen, thoroughly reminded why he keeps trying to convince people that Kitayama's a pain in the ass.

_One WHAT?_

He asks, and this is very counterproductive to what he's really trying to do, which is will down his blush.

_A picture_

_Idiot_

Fujigaya purses his lips, trying to make a decision. But it turns out, he can't, and apparently he takes too long, since Kitayama goes on.

_I bet you're the kind of person who takes nudes_

That makes Fujigaya make an affronted noise out loud, and he very determinedly closes the chat and puts his phone in his pocket. He most certainly doesn't. Anymore.

He wets a paper towel and dabs his cheeks and his neck to try and cool off, deciding he's not going to reward Kitayama with a reply at all.

At least that's what he thinks he's decided on, until he finds himself in bed around midnight with the chat open, looking at Kitayama's suggestive photo. He tries to wrap his brain around why Kitayama's doing this, but he doesn't get anywhere. He just knows he's not one to back down when Kitayama challenges him, so even if he figured he shouldn't send something, the sore loser in him doesn't want to opt out from a competition.

Eventually, he slides out of bed, rips the T-shirt over his head and digs out a proper pyjamas shirt from deep inside his wardrobe. It's baby pink flanell and he'd be embarrassed about it if it wasn't so comfortable when it's cold. He puts the shirt on but doesn't bother buttoning it, settling on the floor before his fullsize mirror and considers himself for a moment, planning his composition.

He messes up his hair a bit more, lets the shirt slide down one arm to reveal his shoulder, kneeling to look less slumped.

He hides his face with the phone in the mirror, only showing off his messy hair, bare shoulder, slutty pink shirt and black boxers. It looks a lot like a camboy type of picture, and Fujigaya tries to push away the thought of what would happen if anyone ever got a hold of this picture as he simply sends it. No second thoughts.

He keeps the shirt on as he goes to bed, and he'd be lying if he said his skin doesn't tingle where the rougher fabric rubs against it.

_Oh damn_

Is the response he gets, and Fujigaya smiles as he turns out the light and slips a hand under the covers. At least he's still got it.

The following day, Fujigaya wakes up with a feeling of remorse, and quickly taps his phone to see if there was anything else sent to him. But there's no notification from Kitayama, and he just prays to god and anything else you can pray to that Kitayama isn't showing his sloppy picture to Nikaido. He'd never live it down. It's the kind of thing Nikaido would frame on his headstone after death.

But he shapes up and changes into professional mode, which is really the only thing that works against morning after shame. Even if this technically might not be that, but it definitely feels the same.

He's in a meeting with Senga and Yokoo until lunch about their upcoming thing, and Fujigaya finds himself looking at his phone more often than he should as lunchtime approaches. He usually gets a picture around lunch.

“So that's when I figured, maybe she doesn't- Okay, _what_ is so interesting about your lockscreen Taisuke?” Yokoo sighs as Fujigaya taps his screen again mindlessly during lunch.

“Oh. Sorry,” Fujigaya feels himself blushing, and Senga looks disgustingly interested suddenly.

“Are you dating someone?” Senga asks, eyes lighting up and he drops the pile of seaweed salad he intended to eat in his excitement. “How did you meet someone in these times? Are you on dating apps?”

“No, oh my god, I'm not dating anyone!” Fujigaya exclaims, and his manager looks up suspiciously from the catering station, so he lowers his voice. “I'm not dating anyone.”

“Oh,” Senga's shoulders slump and he's so visibly disappointed that Fujigaya almost wants to date someone just to make him happy again. “Just a fling then?”

“No,” Fujigaya insists, but Yokoo's watching him and he hates when Yokoo does that. He's got a lie detector in there somewhere and it's very efficient on Fujigaya.

And then Fujigaya's phone vibrates on the table.

“So,” Yokoo starts, the all-knowing grin spreading on his lips. “What's this long awaited message then? Your mom?”

Fujigaya wets his lips before looking down at his phone screen, and tries to muster all his acting experience into his next sentence.

“No, it's just Kitayama,” he sighs like it's the most annoying thing, and pointedly shows them the preview on the screen that says Kitayama sent him a picture.

“... You two chat?” Senga asks, but he just looks surprised as he shoves a massive portion of food into his mouth.

“Not really, he's just started sending me nasty pictures,” Fujigaya sighs, and that's so much truth that not even Yokoo should detect faults in it.

“Oh, he does that to me too sometimes,” Senga says enthusiastically with his mouth full of food. “But mostly animals with other animal faces on them.”

Fujigaya just looks at him for a moment with a lightly disgusted expression because he wishes Senga would talk after he swallowed instead, but he jumps on the opportunity to steer the conversation elsewhere. Only Yokoo still eyes him very knowingly for a moment before letting it slide.

Fujigaya doesn't dare opening the picture before he gets home, even though his fingers itch to do it as soon as he's alone for a moment. But he can't risk another suspicious reaction with Yokoo that close, so he simply drags himself through the day wanting it to end.

He fucking hates Kitayama for making him feel this excited about a goddamn picture. His only comfort is that Kitayama doesn't know a thing about it because he's not there.

He opens the app as soon as the front door is firmly locked behind him, and then looks at the little notification for a moment. If this is completely innocent, he'll actually be pretty pissed, because it'd be just like Kitayama to troll him like that.

But it's not casual.

It's another mirror selfie, but this time he's shirtless, wet, hair sticking to his temples and only a pair of swimming trunks on. His expression is relaxed, with the tiniest little teasing smile as he looks at his phone, and Fujigaya hates him so much. Especially his lips because they look delicious right now when they're not talking.

He sighs deeply and puts his phone back in his pocket, determined to finish his evening routine before even thinking about if he's even going to send anything back.

Unfortunately, it's hard to lie to yourself and Fujigaya's already half planning what he might send back. He can't be worse than Kitayama after all.

So he takes off his outerwear, and mindlessly heats up food even though he's not very interested in eating right now, a little too busy thinking about Kitayama and what he's doing.

He half considers calling Yokoo to confess and whine about Kitayama sending him inappropriate things, but he doesn't really want to. Kitayama's not half as annoying in pictures as he is in person after all, and he's not ugly to look at. Even if Fujigaya often tells him that.

He dutifully eats, then figures he has to shower, inadvertedly reminded of Kitayama's wet picture. Tries to think that he looked stupid with his hair all flat but then pouty lips and tan skin flashes before his eyes instead. He determinedly cuts his shower short in order not to feel tempted to do other things than wash his hair.

But then he pauses midway through drying his hair, leaving it a little moist, just giving it some texture. Drops the towel and puts on the white bathrobe without tying it. Grabs his phone and wipes the remaining steam from the mirror, before backing a few steps and arranges his open robe so that it covers his private parts but clearly shows that he's naked underneath it.

He fluffs up his hair a little, then covers his face with his phone and snaps a picture. He looks at it for a moment, thinks that there's not enough skin, and retakes it. His tan line is very obvious where his waistband would be, and he very vividly misses his belly button piercing right now. He bets Kitayama will too when seeing this.

He sends the picture, shaking his head a little to try and get rid of the shame because he shouldn't really be ashamed, he's not sending dirty pictures. He's just doing better than Kitayama. He starts the blow dryer again, and then jumps when his phone starts ringing.

He turns the dryer off and drops it in the sink, heart speeding up as he sees Kitayama's name lighting up the vibrating phone. Wonders if he's going to laugh at him or something else.

“What?” he picks up the phone, but his voice sounds much more breathy than the annoyed he was going for.

“Are you naked?” Kitayama asks, voice low and deep and Fujigaya leans back against the wall because _fuck_.

“I'm wearing a bathrobe?” Fujigaya replies, trying to sound patronizing but it doesn't go very well.

“Mmm,” Kitayama hums, and Fujigaya's cock twitches. “So you took the picture just for me.”

It's not a question, it's a statement, but Fujigaya still tries to justify himself.

“You wanted one, didn't you?” he asks, kind of coming off annoyed this time, but he sees his own expression and he knows he's already given in. He's had enough sex in front of mirrors to know what he looks like turned on.

“Oh yeah I did,” Kitayama agrees, his deep voice a little breathy and an unsolicited sigh follows his words.

“Are you, uhm,” Fujigaya starts, then pauses as there's a low moan breathed in his ear. “Are you touching yourself?”

“Fuck yeah,” Kitayama admits unashamedly, voice full of rich promise. “Aren't you?”

“No,” Fujigaya says, but his skin is tingling and his cock is already half hard.

“Do it,” Kitayama encourages more than orders, and Fujigaya sighs in defeat. “Touch yourself like I would.”

That sends a sharp tingle through all of Fujigaya's body and he raises his free hand to his collarbones, brushing fingertips against his own skin and starts trailing down, softly, teasingly.

“You remember, right?” Kitayama sighs into his ear, and Fujigaya sighs too as he brushes his own nipple, swelling rapidly as Kitayama goes on. “Slow and soft at first, just how you like it. I'd kiss your neck and play with your nipples. Grab your hips and hold you still because you could never keep still.”

Fujigaya moans softly as he pinches a nipple and his hips thrust forward, imagining Kitayama's strong hands pushing them back against the wall.

“Mm that's it,” Kitayama encourages, voice dripping with lust and Fujigaya hates his fucking voice so much. “I'd kiss your chest, and that stupid tan line, maybe even leave a hickey because I know you love them.”

Fujigaya swallows and runs fingertips along the tan line and below, curling his fingers to scratch a little at the sensitive skin, imagining Kitayama's hot lips there instead.

“After you were just a shivering mess I'd move on to your cock. Breathe on it a little, lick up the precome and make you whine because you want more,” Kitayama goes on, his voice growing more shallow and breathy, and little noises of pleasure cut between his words, making Fujigaya wrap fingers around his own erection and groaning out loud because that feels so good. “Then take you in as far as I could, only to withdraw and tease some more. Lick a little, look up at you with your red cheeks and wet lips. And wait until you begged me.”

Fujigaya glances up at himself in the mirror, the twinge of irritation at how Kitayama fucking _knows_ just heightening his pleasure at the moment. His cheeks are red, lips parted and a little shiny, eyes hooded. And one hand around his dick and the other holding his phone up.

“You have a camera in here?” He gets out, not ready to say fucking please to Kitayama over the phone, and it makes Kitayama moan so deliciously Fujigaya has to squeeze the base of his cock tight in order not to come.

“Fuck I wish I could see you,” he groans, and Fujigaya couldn't agree more. “Are you close?”

“Yeah,” Fujigaya sighs, and Kitayama lets out another long moan that removes any shame in admitting to it.

“Me too,” Kitayama says, and Fujigaya would mock him for the obvious answer if his whole body wasn't buzzing with want. “Fuck I'm gonna come.”

The noise Kitayama makes is desperate and beautiful and Fujigaya closes his eyes and imagines his face, his parted lips and closed eyes, his hand speeding up on its own.

He comes with a rich moan that he never makes when he's alone otherwise, his hips pushing into his hand and the come he can't catch dripping onto the tiled floor.

He leans his head back against the wall with a long, deep sigh as the pleasure fades from his veins, and he hears Kitayama chuckle on the other end.

“What's wrong with you?” Fujigaya demands, but there's still no power behind his words and he just sounds post-coital.

“That was nice, wasn't it?” Kitayama asks smugly, and Fujigaya wants to punch him. This was easier when Kitayama was actually there and he could kiss him quiet when he started getting obnoxious.

“Whatever,” Fujigaya says, shaking come from his hand onto the floor of the shower. He's gonna have to wash this off again anyway. “What was up with the pictures anyway?”

“I hadn't seen you for a while,” Kitayama says easily, like the words would come with a shrug. “I'm used to seeing you every other day so I figured why not pictures.”

“... You're insufferable,” Fujigaya tells him, decidedly looking away from the mirror because the blush on his cheeks is not only sex flush anymore.

“I love you?” Kitayama offers sweetly, and his voice is so full of shit that Fujigaya groans.

“Fuck you, I'm hanging up,” Fujigaya says determinedly, and Kitayama laughs.

“Sure, you go clean yourself up. See you tomorrow,” He says, voice playful and he ends with a snicker, so Fujigaya promptly hangs up the call, then looks at the screen for a while, the colours distorted from the moisture in his hair.

He realizes he's actually looking forward to seeing Kitayama and his shit eating grin tomorrow, and figures that maybe those picture weren't such a bad idea after all.


End file.
